


Twilit Horizon

by LRMatthews



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: How KHII ought to have ended, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Seriously you could choke a Behemoth with the limerence, Sorry Not Sorry, The feeeeeeeeels, Unresolved Romantic Tension, We all know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 00:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14344518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LRMatthews/pseuds/LRMatthews
Summary: In the end there can be a beginning...





	Twilit Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my dearest Andie, who inspired me to finish this damn thing after waaaaaay long in WIP hell. And for the spaulders. ;)

_the dark margin_

“It’s alright, I’m with you, it’s alright…”  Sora murmured the soothing mantra unceasingly, trying not to sound breathless, trying to keep a gentle, reassuring smile on his face, trying to still the exhausted shaking of his limbs as he supported the weight of his oldest friend on his own battered body.  The moment of lightness they’d shared before they crossed the barrier between nowhere and here had faded swiftly away as had Riku’s remaining strength.  The sudden change from solid ground to shifting sand nearly caused Sora to stumble but he kept his balance, adjusting his hold on Riku’s belt, gripping it more tightly as they moved haltingly across the unsteady surface.

They paused at the same moment, looked up and took note of their surroundings, familiar to Riku and remembered by Sora, though only glimpsed through forbidden gilded doors.  The incredibly fine grey sand that made their already awkward movement considerably more difficult; the solitary, squatting rocks which were the only denizens of this lonely place, veined in pulsing, luminescent blue; the ethereal mist that gently surged and ebbed like any normal sea but never disturbed the shoreside, sparkling with the light of a thousand unseen stars; the arches of rock reaching defiantly out of the mist like the long-bared bones of an ancient marine dragon; and the single orb of bright but pitiful light – _even in the deepest darkness there is a light –_ hanging tenuously above the horizon, always setting but never moving.

“This is the end,” Riku spoke lowly.

“Yeah.”  It was like the shadow of Destiny Islands, its pale, perhaps sickly twin, weak and sad but calm and peaceful.  Maybe even beautiful.  As he looked, Sora couldn’t find it in himself to feel distressed that he would be trapped in this in-between shadow realm, maybe as long as he lived.  It could have been because he was so tired, too tired to care right now.  Or … it could just be that he’d finally found Riku.  Riku, who he had lost over a year ago, not knowing if they would ever meet again or if that smile he saw through tear-glazed eyes as those impossibly huge doors closed had been the very last.  Now he had that smile again, so … what did anything else really matter?

“You can let me go,” Riku told him, still speaking softly.  Sora wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t feel the need to speak up or because he was too weary to attempt it.

“Are you sure?” Sora questioned tentatively, biting his lip and tilting his head to look up at Riku’s drawn face.  A strained but genuine smile peeked through the straggled silver locks hanging limply in a fluid cowl.

“Yeah, I’m alright.  I can walk on my own now.  Thanks.”  Still reluctant and unsure, Sora slowly released his hold on Riku’s belt and gingerly stepped out from under his arm, keeping his hands on Riku’s waist and abdomen for a moment to be sure that he _would_ be able to support himself.  With a faint version of his usual cocky grin, Riku straightened carefully until he was his normal height once more, almost a full head taller than Sora.  He rolled his shoulders experimentally and spread his hands as if to say, _See?  I’m fine_.  The smile Sora gave Riku in response was the most open he’d given since they’d finished their battle but it still didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Riku cast atypically dull aquamarine eyes back out to the horizon and after a moment more of studying him, Sora did the same.  It was a bewitching sight, that pale pale sphere diffusing its bare radiance in this place of darkness.  Almost without being aware of it, Sora’s feet dragged forward, carrying him down to the shoreline, the gentle waves kissing at his scuffed shoes.  Taking a deep breath, Sora closed his eyes and for a moment simply _was_.  This place was so serene, so … undemanding.  There was nothing here to harm either of them, nothing to be done, no tasks to be met, hearts to be saved.  And with his eyes closed like this he could pretend he was on their play island during one of their midnight sneak-outs, feeling the coolness of the night, listening to the waves, being with his best friend.  Someone who, Sora had come to realize in the past year, was the most important person in his life.

“Maybe … the darkness isn’t so bad,” Sora murmured, eyes still closed.  He wasn’t sure if the words would carry back to Riku or not but it didn’t really matter.  If he heard them, he heard.  If not … they had plenty of time for Sora to tell his companion all the things he wanted, _needed_ , to say.  Sora let his eyes flutter open, absorbing the endlessness all around him.  “It’s really not so bad…”

The softest of sounds came to him then and he turned around to see Riku collapsed face-down in the sand.  For one moment, everything stopped for Sora: his breath, his heart, even the waves.  Then the fear kicked in, flowing through his veins and firing everything in its wake.  He choked out a wrenched “Riku!” even as his feet were flying in his fallen friend’s direction.

Sora’s foot missed a step in his haste just a yard from Riku and he took the last few inches on his hands and knees, scrambling with clawed hands and stiff legs, “Please, please, _please_ ” streaming unnoticed between his lips.  With a shaking but careful hand he rolled Riku onto his side to see his face.  The wilted silver locks covering his head rustled with his shallow breaths, the face underneath nearly as pale as his hair.  A panicky wave of emotion swelled up and threatened to crush Sora brutally beneath it.

“Riku…”  The panic crested and then abruptly receded as his battle-trained instincts took control of his movements.  With the greatest of care, Sora quickly worked Riku’s tattered vest off, then unzipped and pushed back his slashed shirt, exposing the history of combat carved on Riku’s fair, normally unmarred skin.

Many of the wounds had been healed, but as the battle raged on (now a series of hazy, mis-ordered memories in Sora’s worn mind) and their reserves had dipped lower and lower, each repair had been less and less complete, evidenced in the harsh lines, darker and deeper the newer they were.  But the worst was the last Riku had received, the blow he’d taken in defense of Sora, the hideous insult Xemnas had rent upon him.

They had managed the barest sort of Cure on the slash but it was opened once more, oozing thick ruby drops that glistened starkly against Riku’s pallid flesh.  Sora uttered a curse and hastily but gently stripped the shirt off the rest of the way to give him unhindered access.  Quickly, he shucked his gloves followed by his jacket and his own shirt which was in slightly better shape than Riku’s had been.  The silver crown around his neck thudded into his sternum in protest of the rough treatment it had received in Sora’s haste, one of its sharp points creating a tiny puncture, but Sora was beyond noticing.  The shirt was folded up, the cleanest swatch of blue pressed firmly against the gash.

Sora arranged Riku’s limp arm over the make-shift bandage to hold it in place so that he could fully concentrate on dredging the tiny pool of his magical energy for whatever pearls might remain.  Focusing every shard of will and intent he possessed, he held the picture of closing Riku’s wound in his mind and cast the spell.

Rather than the sweet green sweep of fire cocooning Riku’s form in a renewing burst, the weakest flare lit briefly over his skin before flickering out and dying, refusing to be raised again.  Sora’s fingers curled into fists with frustration.  Without resting and letting _himself_ heal first, there was simply no way he could heal Riku.  What a _stupid_ and infuriating dilemma.  Riku needed help _now_.

Abandoning the attempt at a magic that was not within him to perform, Sora tore through the roomy pouches attached to the legs of his pants.  It had been a long time since he’d gotten or used a potion because, of course, he’d always had the _magic_ to take care of it…  He choked back the angry words he wanted to snipe at himself – some of them in soft-hearted Goofy’s voice, always gently encouraging Sora and Donald to keep potions and ethers in reserve – as he pulled items from the pouches in sharp, jerky movements.  It wouldn’t do any good to berate himself and Riku didn’t need him to be frustrated, upset and panicky.  He needed the Keybearer, the driving force with the power to heal wounded hearts.

(And Sora also deliberately put out of his mind the memory of the very _different_ title he’d been christened with once, the Bringer of Destruction and Chaos.)

At the bottom of his right pouch Sora finally closed a fist around one of the delicate Moogle-crafted stone bottles specifically used to carry healing potion and his heart leapt with promise.  It plummeted just as quickly when he uncorked the bottle to find it empty and he nearly hurled it away in disgust.  Leave it to _him_ to be carting around an _empty_ potion bottle when he so desperately needed a full one.

But maybe…

Hesitantly, not wanting to hope but helplessly doing so anyway, Sora lightly fingered the lip of the bottle and found it tacky.  He popped the finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it once, then drew it along the lip of the bottle again and just inside.  This time he came away with a congealed mass that reminded him with a sudden wave of nostalgia of the skins on the paopu puddings his mother would make.

Keeping the finger aloft, Sora moved back to Riku’s side and shook him gently but firmly.

“Riku?  Are you still with me?”  His answer was merely a low moan and a brief head dip but it was far better than nothing and Sora set to carefully turning Riku’s head back up, explaining while he did.  “I have Potion, but only a little bit and it’s kind of goopy.  You can’t drink it – you’re going to have to lick it from my finger, okay?  I know it’s weird,” he continued while pressing down lightly on Riku’s chin to open his mouth, receiving no real response other than passive compliance.  “But we’re not best friends for nothing, right?  And I promise I took a bath last week, so I’m completely clean.”  An anemic smile quirked Sora’s lips, dying swiftly without an answering eye roll to keep it alive.

Wasting no more time, Sora slid his finger past Riku’s lips, swiping along a limp tongue and then the inside of his cheek, trying to transfer every precious bit.  Despite the necessity of his actions, Sora couldn’t help but feel … _odd_ about what he was doing, especially when Riku was so inert and seemingly helpless.

(Sora could never truly view Riku as helpless – he was pretty sure he had been preconditioned after years of friendship to see Riku as nothing short of impervious, solid, strong.  Even the past year wasn’t enough to shake that.)

Then Riku’s mouth moved and Sora felt odd for a completely different, though not unfamiliar, reason.  Dry but soft lips closed around his finger and the tongue began moving in a light thrumming motion, curling around and sucking off every stain of Potion to be found.  Heat rose from Sora’s chest to his face and he fought the urge to squirm, shift his weight, clear his throat.  (He wasn’t able to keep from holding his breath.)  He bore the cleansing silently until Riku finally released him with a soft _pop_.

Now Sora held his breath for a different reason, waiting for any sign that some bit of Potion had entered Riku’s system to work its magic.  Carefully, so carefully, he eased back a corner of the make-shift bandage.  The wound still looked angry, ugly, but … yes, it _was_ better.  He was almost positive.  Smooth pink scar tissue edged a forming scab and when Sora blotted it gently no fresh fluids showed forth.

Then the best sign of all – Riku moaned quietly, curling in on himself a bit before trying to lift his head and peer blearily at Sora.

“Hey,” Sora said softly, a watery smile on his face, though he kept it from spilling over his cheeks.  “About time you woke up.  Just like you to lay down wherever you feel like.”

“Only because I have to keep looking out for your pathetic self.”  Riku’s comeback was delivered with considerably less energy than Sora would have liked, but his pale lips smiled and a glint shone in half-lidded eyes.  A few more moments and Riku was slowly and deliberately pushing himself up, Sora hovering with nervous concern, hand perpetually a scant inch above Riku’s back.  Sora allowed Riku a few more moments and then took off one of his belts to wrap around Riku’s torso and hold the ruined shirt in place. It fit – barely – and Sora handed Riku’s shirt back to him.  He pulled it on gingerly, leaving it unzipped and letting the vest remain lying in the sand.  Sora pulled his own jacket back on, removing the weighty and no-longer-needed spaulders.  He was not feeling cold, exactly, but wanting the comfort the cloth brought.

Riku spent another few minutes just breathing before scrubbing a hand over his face, snagging a finger in his tangled bangs.  With his hand over his eyes he gave a sigh.

“This … is where I belong,” he murmured.  “This is what’s behind everything, what the world truly is, this darkness.  My part.”

“Riku…”  Sora’s brows knit, a hand rising of its own accord to offer comfort.  Without even glancing over, Riku’s lips turned up in a half-smile, reassuring as he gave a little shake of his head.

“There are two sides, light and darkness.  This is my side.  And it’s alright.”

Understanding began to dawn on Sora.  Not resignation then, not despair, but a quiet acceptance of himself, the parts of him that teetered on the edge of darkness.  “Our side,” Sora added softly.  “Everyone else is safe, over there in the light.  And this is where we are.”  Riku finally turned his head to Sora, the quiet smile still curving his lips, and nodded.  Then he turned his head up and Sora’s followed, both staring into the starless sky.  They stared so long that Sora’s eyes began to slip closed without his being aware of it and he was startled when Riku spoke again.

“Hmm?”

Riku gave a small chuckle.  “Will you help me?” he repeated.  “I’d like to go down to the water, listen to the waves.”

“Oh!”  Sora flushed lightly and scrambled to his feet.  “Sure.”  He waited for Riku to get up on his knees and get his right foot under himself, then wrapped a careful arm around Riku’s waist and pulled Riku’s arm over his shoulder, helping Riku upright.  This walk was slower than the first, Riku not feigning strength he didn’t have, his left foot dragging nearly uselessly through the sand.  It might have upset Sora further if he couldn’t hear the unlabored breath moving through Riku’s lungs and feel his steady heartbeat through the fingers Sora had pressed against Riku’s wrist.  Damaged, yes, weakened, certainly, but healing and on the way to being whole.

They settled carefully just out of reach of the gentle silent waves, Riku’s knees drawn up and arms resting on top to ease the tension of his back, Sora’s legs stretched out and fingers tracking meaningless ruts in the sand.  The silence stretched out around them, not uncomfortable, more like they were blending in and becoming part of the scenery.  Sora’s lids drooped again, not closing completely but allowing everything to take on a sort of obscurity.  It was just so … nothing here.  He was neither warm nor cool, the only scent his nose detected that of his own skin and the dried sweat upon it.  There was the gentlest of rustles from the motion of the false sea, none of the usual wall of sound he had grown up with.

It should have been startling, then, when Riku broke the silence, but Sora just sleepily tilted his head and made a small noise to show he was listening.

“I always … I’ve always said that I was better than you, at so many things.  I turned everything into a competition, a race, a challenge.  The truth is … that’s not who I am.  I can’t lie, I like being strong, being … powerful.  But with you … I had to challenge you, to try to prove that I was better than you in some way.  Because really … I was … jealous.”  Riku was gazing firmly out at the horizon, not ducking his head during his quiet but deliberate speech, but resolutely not looking at Sora either.

In genuine bewilderment, Sora asked, “But … why?  What for?”

Riku’s lips rose in a half-smile.  “You’re so … I can’t live my life the way you seem to do.  You seem so free and easy, like no choice is too difficult.  You always follow your heart.  I … can’t do that.  Even … even before all … _this_ , there was always something inside me that I struggled with.  Now, I’ve accepted it.  I understand it and I can adjust to it.  Use it, if I have to.  I can’t say that I’m jealous anymore but I still … you’re my guiding light, Sora.  If I feel like I’m starting to lose my way, it’s you I think of.”

Riku stopped talking and let silence descend, still staring calmly out at the horizon. Sora let the words wash through him, warming something in the pit of his stomach.

“Everyone has a little darkness inside of them,” he finally spoke. “There’s a little shadow in all our hearts and the choices we make, the things we do to each other, let that shadow grow. But some people … I think some people are better at recognizing that shadow.  They know it’s there and they’re not afraid of it.  They know what it can do and they understand how to not let it.”  _Just like you_ , Sora left unspoken in the air between them.  He let the words resonate for a moment before lifting his lips in a tiny smile and continuing,

“Besides, I’ve got my own issues, you know.  Giant, awful issues.”  Now he struggled to keep the smile contained.

One of Riku’s brows disappeared under his fringe.  “Oh?  What kind of issues?”

“Just the most terrible thing.”  Sora shook his head ruefully.  “I always … wanted to be like you.  Still do.”  He didn’t try to hold back his grin any longer, cocking his head back over his shoulder and directing it at Riku.

Another long moment passed quietly as this was processed and then Riku straightened his shoulders, chin tipped up ever-so-slightly in a faint, playful version of the haughty pose Sora knew so well.

“I hate to break it to you, but there’s one thing about me you’ll never be able to imitate.”

Sora’s brow furrowed with puzzlement.  “There is?  What?”

Riku let his own small but genuine grin break through.  His pose relaxed and he shift his weight toward Sora.  “You, Sora,” he said simply.  “I get to have you in my life.  My best friend.”  The last was spoken into the distance, his grin melting into a gentler, secretive smile.

Sora’s own answering smile came from deep within, the warmth in his stomach spreading up through his chest.

“Well, then,” he answered brightly, “I guess I’m pretty good the way I am.  I’ve got something you’ll never be able to imitate either.”  Riku’s smile broadened, shining in his half-hidden eyes.

Silence washed over them again and Sora relaxed from his hands back onto his elbows, head dipped back between his shoulders, eyes closing with sudden weariness.  He hurt, in so many places, bruises painted all over his body, overexerted muscles crying for rest and relief, mind blurred and longing for oblivion, and his heart … his heart was heavy and overwhelmed with the things he’d learned during his arduous journey.  There were so many things he needed time to think about and process, so many losses to grieve.

But there was one fissure in Sora’s heart which had sealed closed, scarring over and changing the shape of it but not, Sora thought, for the worst.  The pain he’d felt when those enormous pristine doors closed on Riku’s bittersweet smile had been a constant companion the past year.  (Well, the parts he could fully remember, anyway.)  There had been many goals Sora had strived for, many tasks to accomplish, but the one burning quietly behind all of them had been his ever-present desire to find his lost companion.  Everywhere he went, everything he did, he was searching for a trace, a glimpse, a whisper of silver hair, aquamarine eyes, a cocky grin, a warm voice, a sure attitude.

A sudden compulsion bloomed in Sora – he needed to tell Riku, about everything, about what he had done and why he had done it.  The knowledge he’d gained through his travels made Sora all too aware that nothing was certain.  They could lock door after door, close path after path, but the darkness found a way and even here, in this phantasmal surrounding, they could be ripped apart again.  Before that happened, Sora _needed_ Riku to know.

Calmly and casually, Sora opened his eyes and picked himself up off the silty shore, stretching toward the empty slate sky, loosening taut muscles and tendons (inadvertently overextending a couple) before relaxing into his old arms-behind-the-head pose.  He took another moment to simply breathe, then straightened with resolve, deliberately settling back down on the sand beside Riku, a handbreadth between them.  Sora risked a glance at Riku and saw him raise a brow but accompany it with a small smile.  Bolstered, Sora released a silent little sigh and began.

“Seeing those doors close, with you on the other side … somehow that was the worst thing, out of everything we had to do, and all the terrible things we learned…”  Sora closed his eyes for a moment, remembering, still feeling the icy stab in his gut.  “The doors closed and then the entrance was gone and you were gone with it.”  He paused again as he took a shaky breath.  “All that time we were wandering, looking for a way home.  But home is you.”  Sora turned his head now, just enough to look Riku in the eyes.  “Even if we found the path to Destiny Islands, how could I take it if it didn’t lead to you?”  He suddenly gave a bitter sort of chuckle, looking away again.  “And then I forgot.  And when I remembered that I forgot … that was almost worse.  How could my heart be rearranged like that?  Is it so easy?”  Absently, Sora rubbed at his chest as though his calloused and bruised fingers could somehow ease the ache so deep inside himself.

“But you should know,” he continued finally, facing Riku again, “that I would never stop looking.  No matter how far I had to go or how long it took.  Even if I forgot again, I wouldn’t be able to stop because some part of my heart would know that something was missing.  Something that I can’t live without.”

Riku gave Sora a tiny but sweet smile.  “That’s because your heart is so open, Sora.  You help anyone who needs it, whatever you can do.  It’s one of the things that makes you shine so brightly.”

But Sora was shaking his head.  “No, that’s not it.  I mean, yes, I do want to help and I try my best but…”  He trailed off, trying to gather the words in his head, arrange them so that Riku would understand.  “Did you know,” he finally began again, “that when the doors closed the stars began to appear? All the stars that had fallen lit the sky one by one, including Destiny Islands.  I saw it, forming at my feet, grains of sand spilling unto nothing, palms shooting into full trees in seconds.  And Kairi was there.  It would have been so easy to stay with her, just have taken a couple of steps, if I’d kept ahold of her hand … but I didn’t.  I didn’t and I couldn’t.  I told her I would come back and I intended to, but never without you.  I can’t … without you.”

Riku was silent for some time while Sora’s heart contracted painfully.  Maybe Riku still didn’t understand.  Maybe he _did_.  Which would be more difficult to bear, Sora wondered.  He was beginning to feel jittery and exhausted at the same time, like he needed to get up and pace around or fall back on the sand and cease moving altogether.

“It was so exciting,” Riku suddenly spoke, though so softly Sora almost missed his first words.  “Being somewhere new.  Someplace I’d never seen, never walked through before.  What happened to our world was … horrifying.  It should have been and yet I found it so easy to push to the back of my mind and just enjoy being in a place I’d never been.  I thought I would find you and Kairi and everything would be fine.  We’d go exploring together and have adventures and … I don’t think I even cared if we ever got home again.

“And then … I saw you with Donald and Goofy.  With _new_ people and you were already so comfortable together, like you’d known each other for years.  And something about _you_ felt different to me.  I didn’t know what it was then, but I think now that I sensed a kind of … confidence from you that you never really showed before.  Maybe because I was always older and bigger and stronger and I never gave you the chance.”  Sora might have interrupted there at one time, but he was captivated by Riku’s words and recognized the difficulty in voicing them, so kept his gaze on the sand between their feet and listened.

“And I didn’t know what to do with that, knowing – or thinking, anyway – that maybe you didn’t need me to be the leader anymore.  So I ran away.  And I let that witch drip her poison in my ear.  I let her twist my thoughts and draw out the darkness in me and I _believed_ —”  Riku stopped abruptly, breath coming ragged as though he’d been yelling.  Sora reached out reflexively but stopped before touching Riku’s arm.  He didn’t want to cause Riku to falter and felt like he might break apart himself if he dared to make contact right then.

Riku took a long inhale through his nose and let it out in a gentle sigh.  “Anyway, you know what happened after that.  And while I can’t say I’m glad it happened, that I don’t regret the things I did … it did teach me things I needed to know.  And I used that knowledge, or I tried to … the Organization kept taking pieces, kept digging out that darkness…  It took me too long to learn how to control both sides of myself.  The best I could do was help watch over you all while Naminé repaired the damage.  And … bring back the piece of you that was missing.”  There was no mistaking the pain in the expression that dimmed Riku’s face then.  Sora still hadn’t gotten the complete tale of everything that led up to his awakening, but from the bits he’d gleaned about Roxas during his travels … well, he didn’t envy Riku the task.

Riku gave a kind of chuckle then, without much humor in it.  “Even that bit of you … that incomplete part … it was too much for me to handle the first time.  I had to change myself, hide away who I was…”  And that was more than Sora could bear.

“No.”  The word as much breath as substance and Sora swallowed and tried again.  “No.  I would always find you.  You could never hide yourself from me.  And I don’t want you to, not any part.”  He couldn’t stop himself this time as Riku turned his head to face Sora.  Sora fingers brushed aside tangled strands of silver, coarse with sweat and being too long from a proper washing, revealing the aquamarine eyes more familiar to him than his own.  He couldn’t stop his fingers from continuing their path, gently sweeping down the side of Riku’s face and along his jaw.

Sora had been right, before.  Reaching out to touch _did_ shatter him.  But rather than a breaking apart, ruined, it was the cracking of a shell, unbearable sweetness bursting through as light so bright Sora was almost surprised his very skin wasn’t glowing.  But no, there was the light, shining in the brightness of Riku’s eyes, in the slow, rapturous curve of his lips.  The moment stretched, Sora adrift in a haze, seeing only Riku’s face, the burgeoning joy chased ahead by another emotion…

“Sora…”  And awareness lurched back, bringing with it panic and embarrassment and Sora didn’t know whether to speak again or jerk away, drop his hand, continue to desperately hide the truth that had so recently become clear to him, even though he _needed_ Riku to know; and ultimately could do neither, frozen with indecision, probably turning _so_ red and what might be showing in his eyes right now, _what was Riku seeing…?_

Whatever it was that Riku saw swept fondness across his face followed by a gentle determination.  He shifted carefully to face Sora, bent knee tucking up against Sora’s thigh.  Slowly, but without hesitation, Riku’s hands rose to cup Sora’s jaw, thumbs resting just below his ears, fingertips curling under the hair at his nape.  He took Sora’s confusion and indecision and laid it aside, shifting them into their old and familiar roles, leading the way with Sora trying to keep up.

“Hey,” Riku murmured, shaking Sora gently, “don’t think you’ll ever be rid of me that easily. After all” – he tilted his head, affecting a haughty tone – “we make a pretty awesome team.”  Sora couldn’t help the watery laugh or the wide smile that spilled gathering tears down his cheeks.  He wiped at his face with the heel of his free hand, embarrassed again – _why could he_ never _keep himself together around Riku_ – but Riku grinned and brushed his thumbs over Sora’s cheeks, delight radiating through him.  Sora chuckled again weakly and fisted Riku’s loose shirt as Riku tipped their heads together, resting their foreheads against one another.

Sora knew he had the capacity to fit a great deal into his heart, he had room for so much, space to share with so many people.  But he felt now as though he was both being filled unceasingly and expanding infinitely.  He felt like he _was_ the light in the darkness – there could be no shadows here with all this brilliance shining through him.  With Riku beside him nothing would be too difficult to overcome.  They would illuminate every corner, rescue every heart, and stand against every foe.

They were both laughing quietly, Sora realized, feeling ridiculous and not caring at all.  He let his eyes slide shut and reveled in the feeling of being so close, tipping and tilting his head to press his cheek against Riku’s.  And if he turned just a _bit_ more, their lips would meet…

Something solid and cold suddenly knocked into Sora’s shin and he jerked, his gasp swallowing Riku’s surprised exhale.  Sora pulled away and looked down to see a clear glass bottle that had been washed onto the shore, brought to rest at his leg by an unusually enthusiastic wave.  He picked it up carefully, his bemusement only increasing when he saw there was a paper rolled up inside it.  Glancing at Riku, who was equally perplexed, Sora hooked a finger in the neck of the bottle and slid the paper out.  He set the bottle aside and gently unrolled the sheet, smoothing it out on his thigh.

Joy filled him again as he read the words written by his other dearest friend, this more a warm glow than a brilliant beam.  Because now he knew, he could _feel_ the path back home.  It was right there, whenever they wanted it.

Grinning, Sora handed the letter to Riku who skimmed it and looked back up, the same understanding reflected in his eyes.

“Well,” Riku began, sliding a hand back to Sora’s neck, his smile taking a different tone that made Sora want to shiver, “there’s no hurry back, now that we know the way, is there?  We’ve got some time.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sora, as Riku pulled them back together.  “We do.”


End file.
